Me “rocking” it on stage. And by “rocking it” I mean pointing my finger in various places without any sort of rhythm.
I had my 40th birthday party this past weekend. My sister-in-law and I decided to do one together seeing this was the milestone birthday for both of us. We decided to rent a party bus for our friends and hit up a few bars. Our entire goal of the night was to play the tambourine on stage with the band at the last bar.
Yes, you read that correctly. We actually rented a party bus and bar hopped.
Okay, okay, so we just ended up going to two bars, and they were both Irish pubs, but damn, we were out until almost 2 a.m. And yep, we got on stage with the band, and my body still hurts so I would say it was a raging success.
Well maybe not a complete success.
There was that little incident of telling off a 22 year old girl in the bathroom.
As my friend and I entered the bathroom at the last bar, a very intoxicated young little twit is cheering about turning 22 years old. I told her happy birthday and that I was celebrating my 40th.
She then had the most horrified look on her face. As if I told her that I was a carrier of Ebola and planned to lean in for a french kiss.
So after she made this disgusted face, I said, “I love being 40, I definitely wouldn’t want to go back to 22.”
And this punk of a kid said, while rolling her eyes and flipping her drunk frizzy hair, “Well I definitely would never want to be 40.”
I stopped for a second, thought about bitch-slapping her but then realized I don’t actually know how to do that. Is it closed-fist? Open palm? What do you do after the slap? Run?
So instead of attempting an actual bitch-slap, I decided to lean in and really sweetly said, “Do you have a boyfriend, sweetie?”
To which she completely perked up, looked freakishly giddy and said, “Yes, yes, I do.” Feeling very proud of herself.
I smiled and in the most flat and matter of fact voice I could possibly have, said, “Well, he’s probably an asshole.”
Her face fell to the floor and I walked out of the bathroom.
My friend and I laughed our asses off when we got outside the door. My friend then turned to me and said, “How do you know her boyfriend is an asshole?”
“Cause he’s a 22 year old boy. All 22 year old guys are assholes.”
“Very true,” my friend said, wrapping her arm around me. “You are wise in your old age.”
Bet that little girl was rolling her eyes out of her head after I walked out that bathroom. But the truth is, she probably knows I’m right. And if she doesn’t, I have no doubt she will when she turns 40.
